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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26754262">Sister Mandrake</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/gelishan/pseuds/gelishan'>gelishan</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Study, Gen, Psychological Horror</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:36:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,497</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26754262</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/gelishan/pseuds/gelishan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Morgana knows what has to be done.  To Gwen, to Arthur, to all of them.</p><p>But her world wasn’t always this cold.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Morgana &amp; Morgause (Merlin)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sister Mandrake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/idlestories/">idlestories</a> for a truly excellent beta.</p><p>Thanks to  <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/asimaiyat">asimaiyat</a> for giving me so much feedback and encouragement (again!) despite not even being in this fandom.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong>The Hollow Queen</strong><br/>
<br/>
"You don't know how much I hate them," Gwen whispers into Morgana's cloak.<br/>
<br/>
Morgana knows. Morgana <em>made</em> her hate them. She should feel triumphant.<br/>
<br/>
She just feels cold.<br/>
<br/>
But Arthur needs to be destroyed. Through the sludge of grief and loss, that's all that keeps her moving. Morgause gave her life to ensure the end of the Pendragon line, the rise of Morgana's people.<br/>
<br/>
Only when that happens can Morgana finally rest.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<strong>The Tower</strong><br/>
<br/>
She'd expected the stairs to creak on the way up, but they're solid, carved of the same stone as the tower. It's so quiet she can <em>hear</em> the flame of her torch wavering as she climbs.<br/>
<br/>
It won't stay quiet for long. Least of all for Gwen.<br/>
<br/>
The door at the top does creak, imprinting harsh echoes on them both. She can't shake the feeling that there's something familiar about this place.<br/>
<br/>
The tower is in the middle of a desert, but the air is damp and salty like tears.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<strong>The White Dragon, Aithusa</strong><br/>
<br/>
Aithusa was always the sweetest thing; gentle, uncorrupted, helpful no matter the cost.<br/>
<br/>
Morgana wants to love her. Tries to love her. Curls into her for years, trying to protect her. But, ultimately, she can't do any of it. She uses her like she used all the others.<br/>
<br/>
Still, she feels for Aithusa like she hasn't felt for anyone since… anyone since Morgause. When she sees Aithusa's limbs twist and warp in that too-small pit, it stabs through her like a Serket's sting. The poison it leaves is a welcome sort, burning just enough to keep her upright.<br/>
<br/>
Her protective rage towards any who dare to harm Aithusa's malformed kindness is terrible. She smoothes down her wings when she awakes to Morgana's screams.<br/>
<br/>
They both know what it is to be twisted to others' needs.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<strong>Fomorroh</strong><br/>
<br/>
Emrys is here. Emrys is real.<br/>
<br/>
She feels fear, true fear. No, not now, she <em>can't</em> die before finishing what Morgause asked, she'd sooner <em>die</em>, she knows the words aren't making sense but panic is rising around her, solid and thick, she can't <em>breathe</em>, none of her spells or charms can protect her--<br/>
<br/>
It should have been a fierce fight. She should have won. Instead, she wakes in a crumpled heap on the grass.<br/>
<br/>
The fomorroh is gone. It's fine. She'll find something else to take Arthur down, to do what's necessary. Something about the fomorroh felt wrong, anyway.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<strong>The Coronation</strong><br/>
<br/>
She remembers feeling different from this. She remembers happiness, the smell of jasmine weighting her hair, the wind rushing fiercely past her sword arm. But the harder she reaches for those feelings, the further they feel. Like she's sinking into tar, black and sluggish.<br/>
<br/>
“You cannot begin to know how much I hate you," she tells Uther from the throne. And it's true, and it sparks warmth in her, because when she glances at her sister, she's smiling. Magic will finally return to the land. Uther will be dead. Morgause's joy is warmth she can touch.<br/>
<br/>
The screams of the townsfolk as she calls the soldiers on them mean so little next to that.<br/>
<br/>
Arthur's hands are trembling on the sword. "What happened to you, Morgana? I thought we were friends!" Too brave, she thinks distantly. There was a time she would have done anything to spare him this pain. Now, she wonders why.<br/>
<br/>
“As did I, but, alas, we were both wrong."<br/>
<br/>
Her heart spills with the blood in the Cup of Life. Her whole world shatters along with Morgause's back.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<strong>The Marketplace</strong><br/>
<br/>
Gwen looks beautiful, smiling against the orange chiffon she holds to her face. Morgana feels herself smiling too, which is strange-- she hasn't smiled in months. She can almost imagine a world where she and Gwen are friends, true friends. A world where revealing her secrets wouldn't get her thrown to the throne room floor before the king.<br/>
<br/>
It feels wistful, like flickers of warmth trying to reach her heart.<br/>
<br/>
Someone behind her grabs her wrist, hard, where Morgause's bracelet used to be. The pearls there now dig into her skin, leaving round, rough imprints that she knows are going to bruise. It <em>hurts</em>, she tries to pull away but she can't, her years of furtive sword training mean nothing--<br/>
<br/>
"Please. Please!" hisses the old woman. “Just spare me a few minutes of your time… sister."<br/>
<br/>
Her heart slows. Morgause is here. She's finally here.<br/>
<br/>
She rests her hand on top of the old woman's. It's okay. Nothing is wrong. Nothing can be wrong when Morgause is here.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<strong>The In-Between</strong><br/>
<br/>
"Merlin? He believes I've changed. And he's right. Soon he will see exactly how much."<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<strong>A Room She Can't Quite Remember</strong><br/>
<br/>
It's dark here, and something is missing.<br/>
<br/>
Merlin's betrayal plays in her mind, agonizing as the hemlock in her veins; Gwen's kind face dissolves into mockery and hatred. In her dreams, Arthur sends her to the pyre again, and again, and again.<br/>
<br/>
Morgause's bracelet aches against her wrist. She tugs at it. It stays there, secure as an embrace. The only warm thing amidst the weakness and draining terror.<br/>
<br/>
Morgause is there, always by her side. The only one who hasn't betrayed her. The only thing she loves.<br/>
<br/>
Mandrake roots drip black ichor onto her face. Her mind feels thick and cold and dark. She can't hear the roots screaming anymore.<br/>
<br/>
When she wakes to Morgause's smiling, gentle face, she feels as though she's awakened from a nightmare.<br/>
<br/>
She feels cold. She feels hollow.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<strong>Poison</strong><br/>
<br/>
Merlin's skin is pale and sticky with sweat. He holds her while her heart pounds and her stomach spits fire. She wants to hit him, tries to, but with each gasp, she feels herself weakening.<br/>
<br/>
This is what she deserves.<br/>
<br/>
She doesn't know how, but Merlin has found out about Morgause. He knows that the knights coming to destroy the castle are hers. He always seems to know.<br/>
<br/>
He wants to protect Arthur. Even as her blood sings with betrayal, she can't fault him for that. Everyone who knew Arthur wanted to protect him. <em>She's</em> always wanted to protect him. The first time she'd dreamt of his death, she was twelve. The disbelieving horror on his face haunted her until she'd harried the knights into teaching her how to fight.<br/>
<br/>
Even her <em>dreams</em> wanted to protect Arthur. She hopes he knows that… knew that. She hopes he loved her too.<br/>
<br/>
She hopes it ends soon. She hopes it will stop hurting. She hopes Merlin keeps holding her until it does.<br/>
<br/>
And then he's gone. “What has he done to you?" she hears faintly. Angrily.<br/>
<br/>
Morgause.<br/>
<br/>
"I don't want this any more than you." So he doesn't want her dead. She's glad. She knows she shouldn't be, but she's so glad.<br/>
<br/>
Everything feels slow and sticky, but sweet, like honey.<br/>
<br/>
“...but you give me no choice. Stop the knights, and you can save her."<br/>
<br/>
Morgana tries to form words, but they won't come, no matter how desperately she wills them to.<br/>
<br/>
<em>No, Merlin, don't let her take me. please--</em><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
------<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<strong>Home</strong><br/>
<br/>
The room smells like jasmine and coconut. Morgana twists her brush around a curl and holds.<br/>
<br/>
While Gwen's watching, she smiles to herself in the mirror. When Gwen turns away, she lets the smile drop.<br/>
<br/>
This morning, Morgause had asked if she was sure she was in. She said yes. It's the right decision-- Uther is a tyrant. But she's not quite sure about the rest of it.<br/>
<br/>
She loves Morgause, she really does. Morgause has been so kind to her. She's listened to her hurt and rage and fear, she's soothed her feelings with embraces and her dreams with a healing bracelet. Morgana had never even known she had a sister-- the only family she'd ever had was Uther and Arthur, and not even Uther, now. Not anymore.<br/>
<br/>
But she recognizes the earnest, false smile Morgause is directing at her. She's worn that mask herself. It's so useful, one of the rare tools that can make council members listen to her, or coax the castle steward to give Gwen just one more loaf of bread when she's ill. It's useful, but she never uses it on the people she loves. Not the way Morgause is.<br/>
<br/>
(Well, maybe she uses it on Arthur, but only when he needs to be taken down a peg. He's such a pompous bully sometimes: Merlin has the right of it)<br/>
<br/>
--and she feels another slow, warming flush of gratitude at how much Merlin has done for her. How he's kept her secret from even the people he loves most in the world.<br/>
<br/>
She knows she can trust him.<br/>
<br/>
“Let's turn in for the night, Gwen," she says, setting the brush down. Gwen beams at her and wipes her hand on the rough cloth of her apron.<br/>
<br/>
She takes Gwen's arm and lets the warmth of her skin sink into her heart.<br/>
<br/>
Her future is uncertain. But at least she knows who her friends are.</p>
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